A Little Princess & Her Dame
by Kurai-BabyDoll
Summary: Eleven-year-old Laura Hollis is left to experience the beauty and horror of the real world around her when her father leaves for war as a Captain of the British Empire, leaving Laura to experience her new life at a select seminary boarder school for girls. "Children are able to see magic, evidently because they look for it."
1. For The Princess

TW: This is not a pretty story. There will be death and loss and the implication of the ugliness of human nature. But there is beauty and kindness there as well.

Majorly triggering material will be mentioned beforehand in each chapter, however I will refrain from censoring the story itself. This is a "mature" story. Not only in content, but also in its concepts and execution. I don't mean to undermine anyone's intelligence, but a mature mind would be most suited for the content presented.

 _They are all my little dolls. I put them in a playhouse of my own construction. I allow them to scuffle about, follow them carefully, push them along when they need assistance. When playtime gets too rough, I have choices to make. I can allow them out of the playhouse, I can pick them up and dust them off and put them back on their shelves-back to those they belong to. But really, what fun would that be?_

- _BabyDoll_

CHAPTER I: FOR THE PRINCESS

There is no such thing as a happy ending-at least not in the real world. Joy cannot be experienced without pain, because it is not possible to know one without knowing the other. Life is pain. This is a reality that we are shielded from during childhood. Humans go to great lengths to shield their young from the reality of pain. A bandage for a small scratch. A kiss on the head for a nightmare. Innocence is bliss, they say. But what happens, when ultimately, that innocence is ripped away?

An eager little girl sat with her father in an Arabian horse-driven cab that clucked along the stony road. She sat with her feet tucked under her, hidden by her ankle-length white pearl dress, as if she had just returned from mass. She leaned towards the yellow window of the cab to stare out at the passing Gothic buildings with an old-fashioned inquiry in her large eyes. A stream of wind flew in through a rather large crack in the window and she squinted, her honey brown eyes watering.

A heavy night autumn fog was hanging low onto the worn road. Laura could make out a rather large metal-cast sign at the front of a similarly eerie gate, where the carriage stopped accordingly to manually open it.

 _ **Miss Morgan**_

 _Select Seminary for Young Ladies_

Her father kept her tucked into his side even as the carriage slowed to a stop, jerking forward and back again.

Although it wasn't nearly cold enough for winter clothing, her father had required Laura to wear her small simple white gloves and large white beret that covered her ears. The carriage door was opened and she hopped down to the grown despite the protests of both the cab driver and her father.

"Laura, dear, do be careful- _no, do not jump_ -! Reginald, get her luggage, my good man- _Laura_!"

Her father was a large, muscled, gruff man, not a white strand to be found atop his head or his full beard. And although he meant an intimidating front, he had an embarrassingly large soft spot for his only daughter.

Laura's inquisitive gaze turned into something much wider as she gazed up at the pretty castle. Well, it was more of a mansion, like her grandfather's winter house. But Laura liked to imagine that every large place was a castle, where she could explore and find discover secrets and make friends with dragons and princesses and-

"Laura! Don't scour the trellis wall just yet, you little rascal!"

Laura froze as her leg reached to hook into the next foothold. She heard her father chuckle heartily behind her before she was lifted by her small waist and turned to find herself face to face with her father.

He was inquiring her sternly but Laura knew he was secretly pleased with her. "I needed to asses the B.F.N, captain! If the Axis powers decided to attack from the front, we'd be completely vulnerable at our sides!"

Captain Hollis almost choked on his own saliva at his daughter's language. _Maybe she'd been spending a little too much time around the fleets…_ Captain Hollis nodded readily. "Yes yes, very good observation, Lieutenant Hollis. Let's scan the inside for allies, shall we?"

Laura grinned as she clambered down her father's front down to the ground, and stepped up to the large embroidered Oliver wooden doors of the front of the school.

The buildings were rather large- even for a boarding school meant to house just over 20 students- it's grey-bricked exterior and red shading made it give off a rather ominous atmosphere, and it's pale green tiled roofs seemed miles away from the ground. The two buildings connected into each other at a side; everything was surrounded by a great big black fence, with security spikes at the tops made to look like Gothic decor. It's once green lawn and fields were now a dried tan color, and the leaves of once full, historic elements of nature were gathering sadly on the ground.

Laura didn't seem to mind the school's dreary exterior. She imagined it was much bigger on the inside.

In time she would find her imagination was correct.

Captain Hollis had already used the lion-plated door-knocker and the odd pair waited while their luggage was being hauled up the concrete steps by the carriage driver.

In a moment, the giant wooden slabs were delicately swung open, revealing the beautifully tall figure of a woman.

The first thing Laura noticed about the woman was a mess of bright orange shiny hair pulled together as nearly as possible into a low ponytail, tied with a long grey ribbon. Her tired eyes were strikingly blue, and the smile on her face was motherly and sincere.

Laura was slightly starstruck by the look of the woman.

Her beautiful curls bounced as she lowered herself to Laura's height and adjusted the white beret atop her small head. "Hello there. You must be Laura."

Laura grinned widely in return. "I am! Lieutenant Hollis, reporting for duty, ma'am!"

The woman gave a wink to Captain Hollis, who was standing behind his daughter. She laughed sweetly. "Well Lieutenant Hollis, you're needed in the main bunker right away, then I'll give you a personal tour of the fort."

Laura nodded determinedly. She decided this woman was very good.

Captain Hollis spoke up from behind his daughter as they were invited in. "Thank you, Mrs. Perry. I won't stay long; I'm just here to see that Laura settles comfortably. I'm worried about the potential separation anxiety she might face." He glanced over at his daughter, who was gazing around the mansion inquisitively from a few yards away. "I've never been apart from her for very long."

Mrs. Perry smiled fondly. "Not to worry, Captain Hollis. The Morgan Mansion has all of the latest accommodations for educating and entertaining children, and ensuring a proper transition into a young lady. I'm sure she was very popular at home; she'll fit right in here."

Captain Hollis scratched the back of his neck nervously. "I would hope so. Laura's a little...odd. I'd imagine her upfront charisma would be a bit unsettling to the prim young ladies that have been seasoned to exclude strangeness." He removed his cap accordingly. "I do worry."

Laura, meanwhile, had been gathering her bearings. She'd assessed the main grand hall of the entrance, that gave view to twin staircases on either of its sides. A beautifully crafted crystal chandelier hung from the tall ceiling, glistening in the natural light coming in through select () windows. One side of the hall lead through a wide archway; it was likely a dining hall of some sort. To the other side, another twin archway. In the back of her mind she knew her father was far out of sight, but Laura's curiousness overcame the potential fear. Laura had been correct, the interior of the mansion was enormous. The ceilings stretched well over 15 feet, with dark oak furniture all dusted and polished to a tee, and expensive looking hand-embroidered rugs, and white fluffy carpet that seemed to stretch for miles in the room she was in. Laura imagined that it was a rather large tea room; her aunt had had one at home. White leather was stretched over three separate loveseats in the middle of the room, with accompanying side-tables and a large coffee table placed askew in the middle of it all. A large mantled gas-powered fireplace was clicking away at burning wood at the far right of the room, and the walls were coated with dark Browns and reds of old-century themed wallpaper. Laura crossed the room by its sides, not wanting to dirty the snowy carpet with her outside shoes. Her tiny hands trailed along the thick walls as she tiptoed along the edge of the caret, sliding this way and that to achieve the best possible angle.

She lept out of the far framed archway once she had reached the other side of the room, and gave a beaming smile of accomplishment as she glanced back towards the still-sparkling room. Laura found herself in a large hallway. A large, state-of-the-art kitchen was right across from the tearoom, To the far down to the right of the hallway was a rather small set of staircases that lead seemingly to nowhere. She trotted over curiously.

Her hands grabbed the side of the railing on the first set of staircases and leaned over the edge, peering upward. She couldn't make out anything but heavy darkness. A low whistle blew in from the half-opened window to the side of the hall.

"An attic?" Laura wondered aloud, her inhibition, (or, what was left of it) disappearing slowly as her small shoes found themselves moving slowly up the inclining staircase; the steps creaked heartily.

Eventually, after the ascent had lead her just past the first set of steps, she found herself peering up again into the borderline inviting blackness. Laura had never been one to be afraid of the dark Why, she wondered, would one fear the unknown? If it were to happen, it was to happen. There was no point in worrying about every consequence. Laura bounced on her toes, stopping right before the fourth step. Then why wouldn't she dare venture any further?

Suddenly, strong hands were clasping her waist and lifted her up and off of the staircase.

"There you are, princess! Off of that, now."

Laura was set back down and she rubbed her sweaty palms on the fabric of her dress. "Papa there's something up there. I can feel it!"

Mrs. Perry was quickly at Captain Hollis' side. "Laura, up there is not a place for little girls like you. You'd best stay where you belong." She leant down to adjust Laura's beret. "Now, we have to get moving. The Dean is eagerly awaiting to meet you.

As Mrs. Perry led them back down the hallway towards the front of the house, Laura took in the heavy black sheer doors that she had not previously noticed, nestled directly between the two main stair cases. Mrs. Perry stepped aside after the had opened one of the two doors, politely smiling at the pair.

Captain Hollis straightened his coat, Laura saw, and she flattened down the gained wrinkles on the pearl sheer of her dress. She wasn't sure of what it was that dawned over them as they stepped into the dark room, but Laura knew that it wasn't good.

Not at all.

The dim light didn't care to greet them; shadows casted over the room and from what she could make out, there was a rather stern looking woman sitting in the middle of the room behind a large 18th century desk in a rather high-spined leather chair. Everything in the room was neat and kept, artifacts of various time periods aligned the dusted shelves on either sides of the room.

Laura's small hand found the thick fabric of her father's uniform slacks and she gripped tightly as they walked, suddenly not wanting to leave her father's side even as they sat down in individual settees just a foot away from the desk and a foot apart from each other. Everything seemed very precise.

The dean was a rather tall woman, Laura could tell, even while she was sitting. Her posture was rigid and unmoving, bleach blonde hair tied into a bun so tight and perfect that Laura wondered if the woman could even blink without it hurting. She began to speak with her father, Laura knew, but she couldn't seem to comprehend what the exchange was about. She recognized it may have been in relation to herself, but she couldn't tell. The woman's voice was unpleasantly sharp and low. Her octave was high, and seemed agonizingly faux in nature. It made Laura want to clamp her hands over her ears and yell very loudly, even as the words were slightly muffled by her beret.

Laura opted for staring at the ground, her hands fisting in her lap. She began to wonder if she would really like this place. Optimism was her middle name (not literally of course; it was actually Jane) but this room alone seemed to be chipping away her exterior like a dull knife. Mrs. Perry seemed like haze of motherly warmth that Laura had known only a few moments in her short lifetime that was truly genuine. Others had pitied her supplying a fleeting moment of care, before they too left her alone...

"Go ahead, Laura."

The small girl's head whipped up to her father. She stared, wide-eyed, not having heard what was asked of her. A brief glance of panic towards the Dean told Laura that something was expected. She pleaded with her eyes to have her father repeat what he had said.

The Dean rose an expectant, perfect eyebrow at Laura.

The small girl cowered into herself. Never before had she found herself perfectly speechless, save for the few months that she'd spent in absolute silence after-

"Miss Hollis, do tell! I'm quite sure you have developed many theories after reading such...adult literature."

It suddenly clicked in Laura's brain that Ms. Morgan was inquiring about her Kipling reading. She spoke almost reverently _. "_ Yes, ma'am. I do believe that Roger Kipling should be the one to win the '07 nobel prize, ma'am." Laura's small hands suddenly felt clammy and foreign as she wrung them out under the thick wood of the desk.

The Dean's brow rose in surprise. "Oh? Do tell. I would have bet Roger Human would be the one to earn the right."

Laura shook her small head."The Nobel Prize in Literature should go to Kipling...because of his observation, originality of imagination, virility of ideas and remarkable talent for narration." Laura found the strength to glance up towards the Dean for a fraction of a second before her eyes darted down to her lap again. "Because of those reasons, I think. Maybe..."

A sheet of deathly silence fell over the room and Laura cringed. Clearly Ms. Morgan disagreed with her views.

A pause.

"What an original child!" Ms. Morgan exclaimed through her carefully practiced grin. "What a darling creature!"

Captain Hollis nodded approvingly, smiling down at Laura. "Yes, my little Laura has developed an unusual cleverness. Her imagination and curiousness is one of the most developed I have ever seen." Captain Hollis chuckled heartily. "The (housewives) that resided (the base) absolutely adored the child."

"Well then, it seems we have a little princess on our hands!" Ms. Morgan was a fraction away from shrill as her steely gaze shifted to the chair adjacent to Captain Hollis.

Laura's father knew none the wiser, and smiled heartily back. "Indeed. My little Laura should be guarded and cared for at all costs." He nodded sternly. "No expense shall be spared."

The Dean's tone reminded Laura of the officers that he father worked with. Stern, expectant, and right about ready to spit in your face.

Laura wanted nothing more than to disappear into nothingness much like the mist that was gathering outside. She was ready to shake her head ashamedly when a light tap was heard against the closed doors of the office room.

Laura noticed Ms. Morgan's perfect jaw clench before she responded to the sound.

"Enter."

Mrs. Perry's lovely head of curls popped in. "Forgive my interruption but Captain Hollis'transport just rung. His carriage will be arriving shortly." Perry's bright blue found Laura's own sadly. "I expect Captain Hollis would like a moment alone with his daughter."

Laura heard the Dean give a crude, short laugh.

"Yes, children are so dependent. The separation might prove too much for her feeble heart. After all, the trauma she experienced after her mother's death might had already-"

Laura's small, gloved hands gripped the polished wooden armrests on either side of the chair. She felt them slip. "I should like to bid farewell to my father in private." Laura noticed the Dean's brow raised, astonished at being effectively cut off by a pint-size child.

Laura felt very proud of herself; her voice, however small, had not wavered during her request. No, it wasn't a request.

It was a command.

A grim line of a smile formed unwillingly on the face of Ms. Morgan. She nodded once, a robotic gesture likely developed from years in acquaintance with the rich and powerful. "Please." She waved a delicate looking towards the door, and Laura and her father stood politely.

Laura had never before felt so relieved to have exited a mere room.

She watched as her father gave his sincerest regards to Ms. Morgan and she nodded in all the right places, assuring Captain Hollis that his daughter will only be treated with the utmost care and finest opportunities.

Ms. Perry led them up the main left staircase of the house, up towards a long hallway with large, white, embroidered doors on either side. The tension grew heavy like a sheet of cotton wool that nearly choked Laura. In a few minutes, she realized, her father would be gone. The thought didn't shock her as much as she assumed it could, but the fact that she would be surrounded by goodness for the next few month made her more confident in the situation.

The strikingly beautiful woman stopped in front of a hallway of similarly-styled doors on either sides of the walls. She smiled politely at the father and daughter, not wanting to impose her presence on the two as they went to say their goodbyes. "This is your room, Laura. Your roommate's name is Miss Elizabeth Anne Speilsdorf; she's boarded with us for a few years now and would be happy to help you settle in."

Laura nodded accordingly, doing her best to keep up a brave front. Her hands awkwardly fiddled on the doorknob of her new room while her papa and Ms. Perry exchanged parting pleasantries.

"Yes Captain, I'm sure we will. I wish you only the best of luck and pray for your safe return."

Laura waited until Ms. Perry had retreated back down the mahogany-railed staircase.

The interior of the boarding room was almost as beautiful as the entrance of the mansion. Everything was clean and polished on both sides of the room, although one side in particular looked as though it was occupied. White sheer canopies fell over two twin beds on both sides of the room, complete with matching side-tables, dressers, and 18th century writing desks. A large, curtained window rested on the right wall of the large room, where the shining glory of daylight seemed to seep in through the dark clouds that had shrouded the skies upon their arrival. Laura gaped in awe. The room was truly beautiful. And so, she voiced her thoughts.

"Papa it's so PRETTY!" Laura ran about the room, her beret discarded on the ground as she examined every nook and cranny. She turned to her father, grinning, her missing bottom tooth clearly visible. "Would you imagine any secret passages? I mean, this mansion is quite old; there's probably some pretty suitable hiding places. And that about the food? Do you think we'll have cookies with every meal? My teacher back home said something along those lines, yes I think she did-frosted ones! Papa do you-" Laura was panting now, out of breath from her own excitement. She turned to see her father resting atop the window seat that accompanied the large window. She huffed and trotted over. "Papa, are you listening?"

Captain Hollis was regarding his child with equal measures of pride and sadness. Will you be alright here, my little princess? ¨

Laura wrinkled her nose at that. The idea of being a princess was never all that appealing to her. She'd much rather be a brave, heroic knight who could not only save someone else, but would help them to defend themselves as well. Surely papa would understand her way of thinking and even consider it more appealing than a boring story. Laura loved stories; she hated to see any type of story to go unnoticed. "I think. papa," she began, placing both of her little hands on either sides of her father's gruff face. "That I would like to be a knight." Much to her surprise, her papa chuckled heartily before scooping her up into his lap. "My brave little Laura…" He patted down her frazzled gold locks. "If you should like to be a knight, then you may. But understand that with being a knight, comes many responsibilities. Ones that entail much more danger than being a princess."

Laura nodded readily, her faux curls bouncing. "Yes, papa. I would still be a knight."

Her father sighed somewhat defeatedly, but he did not let his emotion show. "Just be sure to promise me, Knight Hollis, that you will _try_ not to get into too much danger."

He brushed her soft hair away from her face. "Bravery does not translate into stupidity. And my little girl is anything but dim."

The little girl huffed. "Well I should hope not! Why, I probably know more than the older boy next door. Rotten boy." Her round cheeks puffed. "He pulled my hair the other day, you know!"

Captain Hollis listened to his daughter with great fondness in his eyes. He'd memorized every expression, every temperament of his daughter's being since the day she had entered the world. The room and accommodations were nice enough-he had made sure of this. He would spend every last dollar if it meant that Laura was safe and happy. Captain Hollis smiled sadly. This all meant that he would be separated from his quaint little comrade very soon.

Laura was unaware of her father's dilemma. She had important things to say, and felt as though this was the right time to do so. She expressed herself as best she could. "It hurt, papa, it did!" Laura rubbed the spot on her scalp as if she could still feel its sting.

Captain Hollis chuckled again. "He means to say that is is fond of you."

Laura breathed deeply. This was her chance. "Well, I'm not of him!" Laura slid off her father's lap with vigor. "I don't believe I'll ever be fond of a boy." she said, somewhat mumbling, her dark hazel eyes trained on the expensive black carpet. "My friends at home write affectionate notes to the blonde boys at school. Absolutely covered in crude hearts and ribbons and locks. I don't understand it. I don't feel anything when I look at a boy. Emptiness at best I would guess."

Papa Hollis considered this for a long while before speaking again. He could tell that Laura was quite serious about this issue, and perhaps she even felt conflicted about speaking about this with him.

Laura felt her small palms grow sweaty, as if she were admitting something secret about herself.

"I love you, my Laura." Her father said, drawing her near by her small wrists. "And I will love whomever you choose to love as well. But please," he poked her chest lightly with his pinky. "don't keep all of that love to yourself. Your love is meant to be shared with the world or it will swell and deflate with loneliness."

Laura considered this in turn. "Then I shall love the loneliest of people most. Because that means that they have more love to share than anyone else."

Captain Hollis smiled down at his daughter with great pride. How she understood so much in so little time of being on this Earth, he couldn't even comprehend. He spoke silently to his wife. 'How proud you would be of our daughter, Anna.'

"Well then." He brushed back her dark honey locks. "You must look your very best if you hope to find a soulmate. Messy girls don't get to find their soulmate."

Laura huffed. "Yes papa. I scrub my face and pin my hair into curls every night. Though they never seem to stay." Laura tugged at a lock of her long hair, watching as only the ends bounced back into a loose curl while the top half remained straightened. "Although I wouldn't mind terribly if some of these dresses were to go poof!"

"Now there's not much I can do about that. Besides," he took her tiny hand in front of him and twirled her involuntarily. "you look absolutely beautiful. A proper young lady."

Laura huffed defeatedly. "You wouldn't believe how difficult it is to run in a dress, papa; it's practically a crime!" She wrinkled her nose at the clean white ensemble.

Captain Hollis nodded knowingly. Lighter colored outfits never lasted his Laura more than a few weeks.

"No matter." She smoothed out the wrinkled portions of her dress dutifully. "Besides, it doesn't look nearly as beautiful as when Mama would wear it…"

Captain Hollis' heart sunk. He knew that Laura usually preferred to keep silent about her mother. This had been a big day for her indeed. He tucked his hand under her small chin to lift it upwards. Her large, bright eyes still shone with bright twinkles despite her gloom. "You are part of her, Laura. She's right by your side wherever you go. A beautiful angel flittering her wings beside you even in the darkest of nights."

Laura's lashes fluttered shut, but try as she might she couldn't feel the flutter her father was describing so vividly. "It's very hard, papa. Is she really there?"

Captain Hollis released his daughter's small hands to search his front pocket. After unclasping the front royal blue button, he slipped his hand inside and pulled out a small silver chain with a dangling locket sliding to adjust to the gravity. The locket twinkled as the locket untwisted itself and Captain Hollis held it up to his daughter.

Laura cupped her hands as her papa slipped it into her palms. The small silver locket was worn but masterfully designed, in a delicate heart-shape with a mirror centerpiece. Her eyes widened curiously. "It's so pretty, papa!"

Captain Hollis gently retrieved the locket from his daughter and undid the small chain clasp with careful fingers. "It was your mother's. I gave this to her on our wedding night." He placed around Laura's neck and slipped her hair out from under the chain. The small heart rested beautifully on the soft skin of her collarbone. Laura grinned before twirling. "She's with me."

Captain Hollis watched his daughter, a small, brave smile upon us own gruff face. He would long for his little girl dearly as he awaited the outcome of the war. As the two embraced tightly, and with the combination of the radiator and each other, it was difficult to imagine that in just a few weeks, Captain Hollis would be tucked away in wet, dirty trenches with bodies strewn over him and a rifle clenched in his fists. They silently prayed that God would favor the British.

Laura stared down from her windowsill down to the street, where the buggy driver was busy stacking her father's luggage up neatly. From her warm, homey boarding room, Laura could see the front of the school at an angle, where her father and Mrs. Perry were conversing by the large double doors of the front. After a moment, she watched her father as he tipped his Captain's cap to Mrs. Perry, who had her handkerchief flowing in a traditional farewell fashion. Her father turned up to Laura's window. Laura knew that he could not see her small figure sitting at behind the grimey window, but he knew she was there regardless. He raised his hand in a solid salute, the tips of his fingers resting stiffly against his forehead. Laura scrambled to her feet at the gesture, blinking her eyes rapidly when she felt a thin film cast over her eyes. She stiffened her arm in a proper salute, her short legs straightening and head held high. Her eyes met her fathers through the yellow glass. Laura needed to be strong. She would not cry. She could not cry. No matter how much it pained her little gentle heart, she needed to be a big girl until her father returned.

She held her salute until her father lowered his own.

And after a brief moment, her father was out of sight, having slipped into the metal-cased buggy and becoming nothing more than a pinpoint on the horizon. Her wrist had ached from waving, but her cheeks remained dry, to her greatest pride. She knew her papa would relish in her bravery.

Laura hopped off of the window seat, and nodded to herself.

"We'll be roommates." Elizabeth shook Laura's hand with vigor, making Laura's small arm flop about. "Which means that as of now, we're best friends."

Laura's head cocked to the side. She wasn't sure if Elizabeth was supposed to be her best friend, but she would try her best for sure. She would try her best for those who needed her. "Alright, Elizabeth. I'll be your friend."

Elizabeth laughed, flipping one of her pigtails over her shoulder only to have it bounce back into place. "Only mum and dad call me that."

Laura felt heat rise up in her soft cheeks. How was she supposed to know what to call her new friend? She intended to ask, but the fancy blonde spoke up beforehand.

"Call me _Betty._ That name is _très moderne_ , don't you think?" she spoke again in crude French, and Laura giggled. This girl was truly bouncy.

"Professor Lillibridge taught me that. You'll probably have to learn it, but don't worry! I'll teach you!" Betty flipped her hair again before strutting across the room to her dresser. "Since we're gonna be best friends, I'll let you borrow my things. People keep giving me all of this pretty jewelry and clothes, it's oh too much!" Betty daintily waved her hand in the air, in a faux snobby manner, before reaching up on her tiptoes to snatch a few beaded necklaces in her tiny fist. She held them up to Laura with a smile and a raised brow.

Laura skipped over to her own bed and plopped down into a sitting position. "Why?"

Betty laughed, placing various necklaces around her own neck and slipping on fancy-looking rings. "Whatcha mean, _why?"_

Laura kindly declined the assortment of necklaces and earrings Betty offered her, then shrugged. "Well, don't you find it a little strange that you're getting so many things all of a sudden?" Laura's head cocked as she watch Betty twirl around in front of her, the necklaces glittering in the light of the open window. "Why do you think they gave them to you?"

Betty stopped twirling slowly, staring at the wall with a curiously blank gare. Betty thought for a minute, as if she'd never questioned the sudden influx of gifts before. She shook her head, pigtails bouncing. "It's clearly because I'm so much fun to be around; the teachers just seem to appreciate my amazing nature!" she said, matter-o-factly.

Laura nodded in agreement. Surely, she supposed, that nothing negative could come from receiving so many nice gifts.

And so, Laura decided to accept Betty's offer and indulge in the finer things.

After bed, Laura was forced to face herself in the mirror. She pressed her hands up to her cheeks, squishing them in. Laura always thought her face was a bit too round. When she'd asked, many insisted it was due to her younger age-some had even called it "baby fat" which she did _not_ appreciate. The youngest member of her school, a tiny blonde four-year-old named Lottie Jeremoth, was only slightly smaller than Laura herself. She huffed with displeasement, before shuffling off to her room again.

She yawned, rubbing at her travel-tired eyes with the sleeve of her nightgown as she made her way back to her shared room.

A faint, shrill voice brought her back to attention. She frowned, turning back around and nearing the staircase that led back down to the ground floor. There it was again; someone was yelling. Laura's investigative tenancies were flaring, but somewhere, deep within her mind, a small voice was telling her to leave it be. To go to bed.

Laura ignored it.

The yelling, she realized as she began her slow, quiet trek down the nobel staircase, was not simple yelling-it was arguing. Her journey to the bottom of the stairs rewarded her with a few audible choice words.

" _...not appropriate, unacceptable- do you want….end up like them?!"_

Laura squinted, even in the dark of the mansion she could make out the open door of the Dean's quarters. The Dean was standing in her usual rigid form, towering over one of the upholstered hairs that Laura and her father had sat in hours before. Laura could not tell what was currently occupying the seat was that was the target of the Deans' vehemence, but she could see the top of a small head of dark raven hair that just barely poked out from the back of the chair.

Laura squinted again, and she could spy the edge seams of a perfectly placed uniform bow at the back of the small head, one that all the girls were required to wear with their school uniforms. 'A student, then' she supposed. But as of this time, all students were required to be in their beds...why would one be allowed to stay awake? The person sitting in the chair was no bigger than Laura's own size. It couldn't possibly be an administrator.

"You have an obligation here, Mircalla. If you cannot fulfill the simple duties required of you, I'll see that you're left out on the side of an empty road for those disgusting cash-hauling brutes-"

Laura had stumbled on the edge of a finely-sewn carpet in an attempt to get closer to the office. She froze, staring wide eyed into the open office. In an instant, the Dean's eyes seemingly found Laura's terrified pair through the darkness. Laura clamped her tiny hand over her own mouth to keep from screaming out in the night. Her entire body was screaming bloody murder at her to move and move quickly, but she was frozen. Another pair of eyes strained through the darkness; they were deeply chocolate and glowed beautifully with the faintest traces of light that caught on them. Laura's hurried heartbeat nearly came to an immediate standstill.

In an instant, the Dean strode forward, and Laura thought she was done for.

But the Dean did not pass the heavy, black double doors of her office, but slammed them shut; a deadlock could be heard from the other side of the doors.

Laura bolted up the stairs.

She didn't dare take another breath until she had shut her boarding room door and threw herself under the covers of her soft bed. Never before had she felt so little control over her own body. She laid panting, perfectly still, and could faintly register Betty's loud snoring coming from the other side of the room.

Go to sleep. She told herself. Just go to sleep.

But her eyes remained pinned open, blown pupils glued to the ceiling.

After she's managed to fully calm herself, she checked the grandfather clock to the side Betty's bed. It read 2 a.m.

She released a choked sob despite her best efforts. And on that night, Laura cried.

A/N: I understand that this is not going to be a fanfiction that will appeal to everyone, (then again, a story that appeals to absolutely everyone is nonexistent) so I do want to know if you all would actually want me to continue. And so, I request that this fic receives at least **5 Kudos** so that I know that I am not just cluttering up this site more than need be. Thank you for understanding, loves. -BabyDoll

 **Discrepancies/Notes** :

-Laura and her father do not necessarily speak in a British accent, despite hailing from the empire. Just as on Carmilla, although the characters are in Austria, they don't necessarily speak German.

-My own personal Canon is that Laura came out to her father in her early teenage years. But for this story, it needed to be done rather early on.

-Now, WW1 was said to have begun in 1914, but for the story's sake, the British Empire was called to arms in 1904.

-I cannot stress this enough, this fic will contain **HIGHLY TRIGGERING MATERIAL (death, suicide, child abuse, descriptive depictions of injury, animal abuse, mental disorders in adolescents, ect.)**. And although it will be mentioned beforehand, I do not recommend easily triggered individuals to proceed. To all others, please enjoy.


	2. The Miss Morgan School For Girls

Pinpoints of light broke through the darkness of the dream, and in an instant, Laura was awoken. She whined and just barely registered the loud _clanging_ sounds that were most likely the culprits of her awakening. Her eyes blinked themselves open, squinting when the bright of morning daylight became all too much to take in. Once her eyes had adjusted to the light, the registered the open curtain of the large window of their bedroom. _Their bedroom…_ Laura shifted away from the wall, and turned over on her side to see the lumpy body of Betty, still sleeping gladly under the heaps of soft-stitched sheets. Laura giggled at the figure before she finally noticed two other children in the room with her.

She first took note of the back of a very curly mess of bright red hair, currently fluttering about, opening all of the curtains and preparing the washroom. The little girl looked slightly older than Laura herself, and had a striking resemblance to the housemother, Mrs. Perry. The other was a stubby looking child of the same age as the curly redhead, whose own orange mane hung just above her shoulders, and was currently having an immense amount of fun banging two large pans together. It was an attempt at a wake up call.

Laura yawned, decided that it was about time that she met these two odd gingers, and sat up in her bed with her arms outstretched over her head. She began removing her rag curlers as she spoke. "Hello, my name is-"

"Laura Hollis, g'morning!" The shorter of the two spoke up, finally ceasing her pan clashing and grinned down at Laura. "Up and at 'em, new kid. You've got classes that start today." she reached her arm out and waited patiently for Laura to shake it.

Laura started at it curiously before returning the gesture. "How do you know my name?"

The straight-haired ginger laughed. "Lola's mummy lets us get everyone up in the morning. We know everyone here. Now, I'm your friend." She said, matter-of-factly, and gave a smile so genuine and kind that Laura felt a warm rush in her system.

Laura smiled in return, and looked past the girl in front of her to the graceful, lean-bodied girl that was currently in the process of ironing Laura's school uniform. "Is that Lola?"

The ginger in front of her nodded. "You got it. Lola Perry, otherwise known as my best friend in the whole entire world."

Although Laura felt a swell of happiness at the reveal of two very close friends, she couldn't help but be tinged with a hint of jealousy. These two had probably been friends since they were very small, and had stayed that way since. Nonetheless, she smiled over at the curly redhead, who's face, Laura noticed, was tinged a slight pink at the comment. As if it were just a fact of the world. Laura's lidded gaze turned back to the girl in front of her bed. "And your name?"

The girl laughed at the revelation. "Oh, yeah. My name is….Susan."

Laura couldn't understand for the life of her as to why it sounded somewhat pained when Susan gave her name. Laura decided that it might have been a question for a later time. Nonetheless, she returned the smile and managed to stumble out of bed, having finished removing her curling looked to Susan's short, straight hair. "Did you forget your curlers, Susan?"

Susan chucked again, raising a brow. "My hair wouldn't curl if my life depended on it. If it did, there would be more than enough assumptions that Lola and I were siblings."

Laura felt a bit sheepish for asking. "Are you two related in any way?"

Lola came up from behind where Susan was standing to lay Laura's newly-pressed uniform across the bed; a dark, olive green knee-length skirt, black tights, and a long-sleeved button up sweater. "They didn't have one that fit your exact measurements so the sleeves might be a bit long...and here!" Lola presented a light green hair bow to complete the uniform. "Keep it at the back of the head or on the left side only. The right is considered to be a violation of dress code, which is strictly enforced here."

Laura nodded gratefully, for both the information and the welcoming kindness presented to her from her new friends. She basked in the realization that it had not even been a day's time, and she'd managed to make three acquaintances without frightening them into dislike. It had been quite some time.

Lola politely answered Laura's previous question with a quirk of her lip and dusting of her dress. "No, we're not related in any way. I suppose it's just lucky to find a best friend with a hair color pigmentation that's as strange as your own."

Susan's own skin turned a similar shade to her hair.

Laura giggled lightly, shooting up to gather her newly-pressed uniform and leaving all traces of sleepiness on her matted bed, which she noticed that Lola took to making right away. Laura felt a bit ashamed at having not made her bed herself. "Lola, you don't have to-"

"Don't bother with that, L. She absolutely thrives on cleanliness!" Susan smirked jokingly, and watched as her friend tended to the bed with a heightened fury.

Laura stared down at her socks. _Had she just been given a nickname? By her friend?_ She'd just barely managed to keep calm about the excitement bubbling up in her chest, but turned on her heel and hurried into the washroom to change.

She'd returned a few minutes later with a renewed nervousness. Did her uniform fit alright? Did she look silly in a skirt? The onyx-colored tights were beginning to ride upwards uncomfortably.

Lola hurried over with her school bow, and began neatly fixing it onto the left side of her head, pinning back a small lock of hair with it.

Lola's hands clasped together in front of her chest. "You look absolutely lovely, Laura. You're very beautiful, you know!"

Laura started down at her polished black indoor _Mary Jane_ shoes that adorned her feet over her tights. Her hands pulled at the curls that hung on of her honey-brown hair that almost reached down to her waist.

Thankfully, Lola seemed to sense her nervousness and choose to speak again. "Elizabeth really should be awake. It's nearly time for our breakfast call."

Laura looked past Lola and Susan to see the small lump heavily still on Betty's side of the room. She grinned and bounced over, staring at the lump with a quirk in her lip. She giggled softly before bouncing forward. "Betty, WAKE UP!" But instead of feeling the solid body of the girl, her hands sunk down on the lump and smothered into the soft sheets. Laura frowned as she felt the sheets settle around her arms.

With a flick of her wrist the unveiled sheets revealed a stack of unwashed pillows, shaped to resemble the body of a rather tall young girl.

Laura turned to Susan and Lola. "Betty isn't here." The statement was calm and precise, yet filled with uneasiness.

Lola took the initiative to speak first. "She might just be playing a game, you know. She's probably downstairs devouring half of the breakfast table!" Lola chuckled nervously.

Susan nodded. "It's likely. It's just like Elizabeth to go playing around like that, especially towards the more..naive students." she threw a goodnatured elbow at Laura's way.

The honey-brunette stood for a moment, staring back at the lumps of soft pillows on the bed, before nodding to herself. "So you've known Betty for a while?" Laura asked as the exited her boarding room and walked across the hallway.

Most of the doors on either side were open, revealing either perfectly kept rooms or complete disasters that only boys would be expected of making. Laura knew that it was impolite to look into other's rooms, but she could help but giggle as a very tall red headed girl was bouncing on one foot while her hands attempted to pull up her stockings over her legs. She must have been a teenager by her looks, just getting to the stage of dealing with longer limbs. Laura supposed very briefly that she would not need to deal with the extent of that phase, as she imagined she would remain quite small even in adulthood. Unless of course, some miraculous growth spurt were to take place. But she deemed that very unlikely.

Susan answered her inquiry as the three trotted downstairs. "Indeed. Betty's been attending here since she was seven years old. Lola and I have been here for longer, of course."

"How many years young are you, Laura?" Lola asked as they entered what appeared to be the tea room that Laura had been exploring the day before.

The room was still as clean and proper as it was before, but now it was occupied with at least 20 young girls, all wearing similar uniforms with some variation. A sparkling veil seemed to settle over the children, their actions free of all evil purpose. It was, in a way, rather soothing. Laura spotted Lottie sitting cross-legged on the soft carpet, rolling a small wooden hobby horse. She also saw Mrs. Perry, entertaining a small group of children as she read to them quietly.

Laura answered as she sat down on the ground with her two friends, only just acknowledging that she had not seen Betty anywhere in the mix of young girls. "I'm eleven and three quarters." she announced, and greatly resisted the urge to raise her fingers in accordance with her age, only just reminding herself that she could not do that anymore. "And yourselves?"

"Twelve and a half." Lola smiled happily, before Susan chimed in with a proud "Twelve and three quarters. Which means that I can boss this one around whenever I want." Susan smirked at Lola, who was still smiling sweetly.

"Susan?" Lola answered, in the softest, most silky voice that Laura had ever heard her produce. Laura noticed Susan's demeanor changed immediately.

"Would you please go and fetch some sweet tea for Laura and I? One lump." Lola's eyelashes batted and Susan's eyes widened, her head nodding mechanically before bolting up and rushing to the dining hall.

Laura never thought that she'd laughed so hard in her entire life.

A few minutes later all three were happily enjoying their hot drinks (Laura became quite ecstatic over the open sugar bowl policy) and the children had managed to calm themselves before their first of their daily meals. The table was almost ready, as Laura could smell the sweet milky scent of a breakfast wheat meal, along with some sort of citrus fruits and the homey scent of freshly baked bread.

Laura's mouth was nearly watering...she rather enjoyed food. Lots of food, to be specific.

The schoolchildren seemed to catch on soon after, and began to grow skittish as their tummies growled impatiently.

Lola huffed, crossing her arms. "Honestly...can't they _wait_ for a minute or two?" her pretty fingers tapped against the side of her own arm.

Susan was pouting as if she'd been scolded.

Laura laughed freely. It seemed as though it would be a swell morning.

Then, a small shadow caught in the corner of her eye. She blinked, her head turning and hair swaying.

A small figure looming in the far archway caught Laura's attention, before the shadow disappeared back into the dark hallway, but not before Laura caught the shine of darkened raven curls and the glaring contrast of the schoolgirl's pale green hair bows. The small honey brunette took notice of the archway, remembering that it was the same hall that lead to the mysteriously dark attic staircase. She excused herself from Susan and Lola and skipped over across to the other side of the room, taking care as to not disturb any of the other girls in the process.

As she neared the archway, the sounds of chatter and laughter seemed to fade away, along with the pleasant scents of early morning breakfast, replaced with a cold patch of air that hung in the dimly-lit hallway. There, sitting neatly on the first rise of the staircase, sat a beautiful little raven-haired girl who was no bigger than Laura´s own size, concentrating on the pages of a rather large book that she rested on her knees. Her uniform was quite similar to Laura's own, save for the small black school blazer that the girl wore over her button up blouse. Laura noticed these things only briefly, before the girl's gaze locked into Laura's own. Those dark chocolate eyes bore into Laura's own soft ones with aching familiarity, and it make Laura want to run away. She wouldn't-no- _couldn't_ move, even as the girl stood swiftly, with all the grace of an angel. Laura had estimated correctly; the porcelain-skinned girl was very small, and her curiously blank expression stitched with her large, dark eyes and long lashes completed her doll-like exterior.

The trance was suddenly broken as her dark eyes turned to slits as she glared daggers at Laura.

The honey-brunett opened her small mouth at an attempt of words-nothing but a small squeak.

Then suddenly, she disregarded Laura with a raised dark brow before staring back down at her book again, seeming quite bored with the encounter. She turned and took her time in strolling back up the staircase.

Laura blinked herself out of shock. A larger question loomed in her mind. The students were not allowed up those stairs-Laura had been told this personally by her father. And although Laura had never been very keen on rules, this engaged her interests unwillingly. So, she mustered up the most mature, adultish approach she could attempt. She took in a deep breath. " _HEY!_ Kids aren't allowed up there, dummy!"

The dark brunette froze on the fourth step, her small black shoes tapped to a stop. Then, she continued up as if nothing had even phased her, not even bothering to look back down at the small flustered honey-brunette.

Laura's mouth fell open.

Then, she pouted furiously, her cheeks tinting and her brows furrowed in. Her hands curled into small fists that shook at her sides. She tried again. " _Hey!_ Did you even _hear me_? We're not allowed up there!"

This time, the girl on the staircase did turn around slowly, her book closing with her movements. The girl gave a quick glare down at Laura, seeming extremely bored with her presence. "Idiot child; stop yelling. It's annoying."

Her voice, though quite high, was like music to the ears even despite her words. Laura tried to put this to the back of her mind.

The honey-brunette's eyes widened as she watched the girl turn again, her skirt flowing, and proceeded to ascend once again, without another chosen word.

Laura was at a loss as she watched the little girl's perfect, dark curls bounce with every step, and the beautiful green satin bow at the back of her head. Laura's cheeks puffed with barely controlled confusion and anger.

"Your bow isn't as perfectly placed as you think it is, you- you _bad person,_ you!"

The dining hall was rather large, as it housed two 18th century veneer mahogany dining tables that rested parallel to each other, each crafted to seat 16 people, which when combined was more than the school even housed. Laura found this to be very curious. All of the students had sat accordingly at the first of the two dining tables, rolling their sleeves up to their elbows and pushing their hair behind their ears. Laura noticed with a small smile that Lola had some trouble with accomplishing the former. She also noticed that the entire table was full, save for one spot right beside Susan. She smiled and walked over, taking care so as to not to wrinkle her skirt as she sat up with a small bounce, her legs dangling a few inches from the ground. She noticed that Susan was staring at her curiously.

¨Um, Laura? As much as I love for you to sit there, that's actually Lizzie's seat.¨

Lola nodded in agreement. ¨We all have assigned seating. It's no big deal, just ask my mother where they would like you to be seated.¨

Laura nodded, halfway sliding off of the upholstered chair when she heard Mrs. Perry's lovely voice. "That's alright Laura dear, you can stay there for now."

Laura frowned, but readjusted her seating. "Mrs. Perry, if it is alright for me to sit here, then where has Elizabeth gone?"

Mrs. Perry bright blue eyes went wide, and she cleared her throat before she opened her mouth to speak, when the double doors of the kitchen were swung open, and out came a frightened-looking young girl who seemed only a bit older than Laura herself. Her skin was dark and her black curls were tucked under a white traditional maid's cap, and her round spectacles were almost as big as her own face. She was holding what appeared to be a rather large porridge bowl in one arm, and a silver ladle in the other. An older woman rushed out after her, balancing various trays on both strong arms. She directed the younger girl to begin serving portions of the soupy breakfast food, and the small girl did so accordingly. She went around the tables, starting at one where the Dean, Mrs. Perry, and the pretty mean girl were sitting. She served them, then moved on.

Laura watched the shy girl approach them, and determined that she was a servant. But did she reside at the school? Perhaps she only worked here. Was she not too young for labor? Perhaps she was older than she appeared.

The dark-skinned girl gave Laura her spoonful of porridge then hurried to the tall redhead to her right.

Laura smiled at the girl politely. "Thank you."

Suddenly, the entire hall had gone silent. Laura watched as the girl with glasses quickly gave the redhead her portion and moved on. The small honey-glanced around. Her eyes caught Mrs. Perry's, who was hurrying over to where she was sitting.

"Laura, we do not speak to the servants, alright dear?"

Laura's eyes lowered to the ground. Why, she wondered, was no conversation allowed with them? Surely a simple thanks would not offend them. Although it was likely that they spoke in a different tongue. Laura kept her head down until everyone had resumed their noise making.

Once they were served, polite conversation began as usual. Well, as polite as possible when including children.

"I heard that they crawled out of the new gutters…."

"Yeah, that's why their skin is like that-probably filthy all the time!"

Laura couldn't register what was being said at her table. She couldn't fathom how words could be so cruel, yet tone could seem so innocent. A few of the girls at the far end of the table were speaking of the two servants who had given them their meal. It seemed as though that they were saying was unimpeachable, but Laura knew, deep in her heart that there had to be some underlying evilness. Laura couldn't take listening in anymore, so she turned to join Perry and Susan's conversation.

A while later and she became bored with that as well. She leaned her jaw on her small hand, propped up by her elbow. She blew at a strand of bright blonde hair that had fallen in front of her eye. She wondered why the students had to wait to be excused. Why couldn't they politely excuse themselves?

It was all very frustrating.

But, less frustrating that one other thing. Laura attempted to turn discreetly behind her, and found the raven-haired girl's eyes boring into her own. She was almost _glaring_ with hatred, and Laura deeply wondered why. Laura whipped around quickly, clutching at the front fabric of her skirt and kept her wide eyes staring forward.

 _Why did the girl dislike her so?_

The end of breakfast brought a tumbling wave of new concepts and rules. There was one professor for two classes that shared similar concepts. All students were required to attend four academically challenging courses, one language, and one fine art. There would be an activity break for everyone under the age of thirteen, and reading breaks for those over the cap. Lunch would be served at noon. Textbooks would be provided, and every student was required to manage their own sets of writing instruments and ink pots. There were only three available classrooms, and students alternated between both clasrooms and professors.

Laura's head was reeling with all of this information. Though, she managed to sheepishly follow behind Susan and Lola's every move while restraining herself from asking too many questions. Meanwhile, she silently clung to the hope that Betty would be sitting quietly in one of the desks once all of the children were seated.

She was not.

This was the first thing that Laura noticed, after she was seated in one of the last rows of the small classroom. The classroom was nearest to the kitchen, which was likely the explanation for the wafting scent of sweet bread that floated around the brightly lit room. Her professor was quite old; his belly stuck out and covered his belted trousers. He had glared curiously down at Laura when she'd approached him.

"Parlez-vous français, enfant?"

Laura's eyes had gone wide and she shook her head as a natural response.

He had nodded and spoke gruffly. "Ah, I see. Please to be sitting, now."

Laura had to refrain from asking any further questions. She'd hoped to find a seat closer to her two new friends, but it wasn't so.

The second very important thing that Laura noticed but did not care about at all, no sir, was the fact that that there was no sight of the little mean girl anywhere in the classroom. She cocked her head in thought. Every student was to attend the same classes. Another quick glance around the room told Laura that every child (save for the dark haired girl) was here. Laura found this very curious, and definitely paid all of her attention to what her Professor was lecturing and definitely did not wonder how the mean little girl placed her bow so perfectly every day.

That was until, she was called on.

"Mademoiselle 'ollis?"

Laura's head snapped up from where she was staring at her freshly filled ink pot, twirling her pen in the dark liquid. She answered in a small voice, and stood at the side of her desk accordingly. "Y-yes sir?"

He raised his single spectacle at her, leaning forward from where he was standing at the front. "I dare say that you veren't paying the attention. Care to be telling ze class as to why the attention vasen't paid?"

Laura's small mouth opened and a tiny squeak was her response. Her palms grew sweaty as she clasped her hands more tightly together behind her back.

A loud church bell rung thrice, slowly and strongly. It was so loud in fact, that half of the students hurried to cover their ears with their small hands, and the older children took to rubbing their temples in irritation. Laura, having never heard the sound, had ducked under her desk in surprise, and was now slowly getting back to her feet. The ringing had stopped.

All of the students had gathered their things and were now exiting the class. Laura glanced up; Professeur Abelard was smiling at her while shaking his chubby finger. "Very lucky, Madmoiselle. Very lucky, indeed."

Laura's face grew hot and she stared at the ground as she followed the two redheads out of the wooden door.

"Very lucky! Very lucky indeed, Mizz 'ollis!" Susan mocked, snickering as Laura pouted. Interestingly enough, their next class was just across from their last one, and students were already beginning to settle in. Laura had opted for heading upstairs to the washroom to douse her reddened face. Lola handed her a fluffy black towel to pat her cheeks down, before striking Susan in the arm. "Oh hush; that's not nice. I'd bet Professeur Abelard wouldn't have a second thought about laughing at _your_ french if it didn't get him in trouble."

Susan laughed again. "My french is much better than his. He's actually from Poland, you know. Acts french to please Miss Morgan."

Laura heard Lola quickly stifle a giggle with a harsh cough.

"Even if it's true, we still have to be respectful to him as a teacher." Lola finalized, and quickly ushered them all back towards the staircases.

Laura rubbed her eyes with her curled fist. It wasn't even the first hour in and she already felt very tired. The next class, and still no sign of Betty. The small bundle of uneasiness that had been residing in Laura's stomach grew tenfold when she'd heard a few of the students speaking softly when she'd entered the dimly lit room.

"That's the girl who was with Betty, right?"

"Such a shame, don't you think? It really should have been her. Not Betty."

"Poor Betty."

Laura averted her eyes from their stares and quickly caught up to Susan and Lola, who were already settling in at their seats. Maybe they'd enlighten her on the gossip.

She hopped onto Perryś desktop and sat with a huff. ¨This is all very strange. I´d just become friends with Betty, and now sheś gone to nowhere! I say, I don't like this uneasiness. I don't. And now I've developed a record with Mossiure, Iḿ bound to struggle with my French now, my papa has only just gone and I miss him terribly, I've been scolded more times than days i've attended, and I can't seem to understand that rude girl with her perfect bow and dolly face-¨

Suddenly, Susanś hands were clasping her shoulders and was staring at her worriedly. ¨L, youŕe going purple!

Laura took in a deep breath which she released as a sigh. She often tended to spill her top layer thoughts like an open book. She apologized immediately. ¨Goodness, forgive me. Iḿ just very much on edge at the moment." She felt Lola stroking her hair and she relaxed at the touch.

Susan jumped in front of where she was sitting. ¨L, we're here to help with whatever madness comes your way. After all, we're friends.¨

The honey-brunett smiled gratefully, before hopping of of the small student desk. She dusted her skirt. ¨First thing is first I suppose. To find out where Bettyś gone off too...¨ Laura noticed Susan and Lola exchange a look of uncertainty. She raised a brow at them both. ¨Something you'd like to inform me about?¨

Lola opened her heart-shaped mouth but closed it ashamedly.

Susan then took the initiative. ¨Well…Itś not like we know much about it, Laura; there isn't much that anyone can do anymore, but...¨

Laura waited with her breath held.

Susan sighed defeatedly. ¨Betty is not returning. And it is likely that she never will. Laura there are things about this school that not even madam Perry understands, or wouldn't dare tell us.¨

¨Itś best to just leave it be. Betty's probably alright, there isn't anything we can do anyways.¨

Laura's mind was reeling. _Betty was not going to return? Ever? Secretes that no one understands...if that were true, then there wouldn't be a secret in the first place.¨_ Her tiny fists clenched. _Nothing we can do?_

Her second class went along relatively smoothly. Laura found herself giggling along as Susan's eyes widened with terrifying amounts of joy at all of experiments they would conduct throughout the year, beginning with a simple putty-making procedure, but it was enough to get Susan's gears turning. Laura even noticed that Lola was having a bit of trouble with her own solution.

And Laura had very much enjoyed making castles out of the finished product.

Their break time was spent in Laura's room, where the two redheaded children had made themselves very much at home after Laura had closed the door shut.

The honey-brunette took to pacing about the room as she spoke. "Alrighty. I need some kind of explanation before I start to go all wonky." She turned to Susan first, who was sitting cross-legged on top of Laura's bed. "First, how did you know that Betty would not be returning?"

Susan's gaze turned sorrowful. "Laura…"

"We've been here almost since we were toddlers, Laura. A lot of things have happened since then, but this whole... _thing_ is quite recent."

"What _thing?_ " Laura questioned, ceasing her pacing.

Lola's fingers knotted and twisted. "Well...I don't really know. It's only been happening for the past two years or so, but since then…"

"Over five girls have just...disappeared. They leave in the middle of the night usually, and then they never come back." Susan sighed.

Laura couldn't bring herself to wrap her head around it all, so she moved on. "Without any of their things? Because Betty had all of these pretty necklaces and bracelets and they're still here."

The three children turned to the brightly colored assortment of jewelry that was gathered atop the dresser at the back wall of the room. They reflected the light that managed through the grimey window, and it was almost blinding.

"Usually," said Susan, "and none of the professors will ever talk about them again. If they're spoken of, it's considered 'inflammatory'" she used air quotes "whatever that means."

Laura rubbed her tired eyes. Last night wasn't very helpful towards their situation, and now she felt as though there was even less to go off of. She brushed it off, though, and placed her fists on her hips. "Well," she took a deep breath. "that's fine. If none of the grown-ups are gonna help me, then I'll find Betty myself." she noticed Susan and Lola exchange another look of uncertainty. She turned her gaze towards the empty bed, the arranged pillows still sitting lifelessly in the form of a child. "Or...what happened to her."

Their next two classes went by rather quickly; Laura found herself rather enjoying the topics, as they fed her love for learning. Her literature class was taught by an older woman named Professor Chochrin, who was an eccentric teacher who knew her stuff~

Their lunch break was next. The students were directed once again to the dining hall, and after having a generous helping of (sandwiches and clam chowder), Laura glanced around again. It seemed as though that this time, the students were free to spend their remaining lunch hour however they pleased when they had finished. Laura stacked her dishes accordingly and excused herself from Susan and Lola, who were still chatting over their sandwiches and mumbling something about 'hummus'...

Laura hopped from one carpet to the other as she made her way out the back of the mansion, taking care to readjust the rugs if she'd shifted one over. She giggled as one slid forward with her speed, and felt very proud of herself once she'd caught herself from stumbling. She fixed that one, too. She assumed that students were allowed outside at this hour, as the glass double doors that lead to the rolling hills of their three acres were wide open.

The air was crisp but not unpleasant, but the wind whipped around her honey brown locks and made a mess of them as she looked around. She spit out some of the hair that had caught in her mouth and looked around. Although the stark black fence of the property was clearly visible around its borders, Laura imagined that the tanned prairie in front of her stretched for miles. It didn't of course, because at the end of the property, the gothic fence bordered the expanse of forest that was just on the other side. The gardens surrounding the mansion were still in their planting season, and there weren't any trees besides one that was placed atop an oddly shaped hill to Laura's right. She also noticed the little dot of black and porcelain that was sitting gracefully under the rather dead-looking (oak) tree, looking down at something in her lap.

Laura tried not to be upset when she determinedly approached the girl under the tree, but the memory of her rudeness burned a flame in Laura that she couldn't quite control. She found herself running, her little legs working in crude synch with pumping arms as she ran over. She was only a little ways away, but the girl sitting on the hill had not yet seen Laura. That was until, Laura stumbled over her own strides and she fell forward, landing on her hands and knees. She grunted and sat up, looking down at her dirty hands. She glanced up; the dark brunette was staring at her with a raised brow. Then suddenly, the girl let out a single scoff, and continued reading from her hardback novel.

Laura's face was indistinguishable from a tomato.

Laura's nightgown, like everything else in her wardrobe, fit her entirely too big. When her father gave the school her measurements, he'd predicted that she'd have a sudden growth spurt and that all of her cloths would be useless to her in a year or so. Laura pouted at the dragging fabric that pooled around her feet, and she folded back the soft cotton sleeves on her arms. She jumped up to her bed with a small hop, finally allowing herself to glance over to Betty's side of the maroon room. Laura stared at the empty bed with a furrowed brow. Betty's disappearance had awoken something in Laura. A thirst for realism, one that likely would lead to no good, but must be explored nonetheless.

A loud slam brought a haze of uneasiness over the room and she jumped up, trying not to stumble over her own nightgown as she approached the grimey window to the right of the room. Her hands pressed against the cold glass and her panicked breath fogged up the glass. She rubbed away the haze with a frustrated growl. The night was an inky black, but the single streetlamp allowed Laura to see the single-steed buggy in front of the mansion. She frowned as the heavy doors of the main entrance were swung open, and there was Ms. Morgan, with two other men clothed in brown and black. One of the men was being followed by a young girl, who appeared to be wearing their school's uniform. Laura did not recognize her, but she watched helplessly as the girl was directed into the buggy, and out of Laura's sight. She'd also noticed the assortment of luggage tied to the back end of the buggy, and then the carriage was disappearing down the road, with Ms. Morgan waving them off casually.

Laura stared down at the Dean, watching as the woman dusted her hands on a black cloth, which she promptly disposed of in a near bin.


	3. I Can See Your Angel Wings

Laura had always believed that fate did not leave friendships to chance. True friendships, even if they resulted in a falling out, had a purpose in shaping both parties. Laura had developed a few friendships even in her first few years of life. But after the accident, she'd lost them all. Regardless, she'd never considered one of them her best friend. She'd been saving that position for a very special person. Even if she waited for a lifetime, Laura believed that her bestfriend, her soulmate, would find her-that they would find each other.

A borderline shrill voice came bursting through Laura's bedroom. The honey-brunette sighed into her pillow, only barely managing to remember the day, and confirmed her suspicion that there weren't any school classes scheduled. Laura felt a sudden dip at the foot of her bed and sat up, only to find Susan face-down in the sheets, grumbling into nothingness.

Laura giggled and patted the other girl's shoulder.

At this, Susan lifted her head ever so slightly. "Lola's crazy…"

Laura spotted a thin-lipped smile but didn't comment; instead, she turned to Lola who had begun speaking again.

"I heard that, Susan! Laura dear, we have to attend mass today as well as every Sunday," said Lola.

Laura couldn't manage to keep her thoughts reeled in. "Aren't you of a different belief? I mean, not to assume anything, but your mother had the star of David pinned on her collar so I'd figured that you'd be the same- and I'm very sorry about asking but-"

Lola giggled. "Yes, I am. That doesn't mean I can't enjoy the beautiful aura of a church house."

Laura spotted Lola quickly pulling open the curtains and rushing to gather Laura's cloths. Laura smiled at this. She suspected that Lola would, someday, be a very good mother.

* * *

Laura found herself shifting in her seat, picking at the food on her white plate anxiously. New places tended to raise some high amounts of unwanted curiosity in Laura. She attempted to stop bouncing in her seat, but once Ms. Perry gave the call for everyone to rush and slip on their coats and winter shoes, Laura couldn't help but give a small squeal of delight.

Susan laughed. "First time going to a church?" She said, as the three friends, all dressed in their long olive pea coats that framed their shoulders, slipped on their outside trainers.

Laura made a small noise of thought before adjusting the green beret atop her head. "I suppose a few times. But most were for funeral viewings…"

Susan rose a curious brow at this but didn't comment. She knew that Laura's father was a Captain of the British Army, so she'd assumed that kind of lifestyle had surrounded Laura.

Once out the front door, they were greeted with the musk of late autumn. Laura snuggled further into herself as they stepped outside, feeling small sprinkles of rain begin to fall from the gloomy sky. Beside her, Lola gave out a frustrated growl.

The beret just barely managed to cover the top of Lola's fiery mess of orange curls, which she patted down angrily.

"Lola's hair gets all poofy with the humidity," Susan explained. "It's really cute."

Lola turned red, patting down her hair more furiously. "It's not!"

"It is!" Susan laughed, tucking her own ears under the beret.

Ms. Perry, who had already been outside at the time, called the students in after she's observed them attempting to splash each other with mini puddles on the pavement. "Pair up, girls! I want two lines right in front of me. Pair up!"

Lola and Susan immediately stepped together and gave a rather sheepish look at Laura, who smiled in return.

"That's alright, I think it was about time I spoke to more than two people here." So she looked around as the girls, all of the various ages, began pairing up with each other. Laura spotted the little blonde from yesterday, thumb in her mouth as she clutched onto her beret.

The honey-blonde skipped over. "Hello, Lottie!"

Lottie took the courtesy of pulling her thumb out of her mouth, "Hello Lauwa." she said politely before sticking it right back in.

Laura eyed the big beret that Lottie had clutched to her chest and pointed at it. "Do you need any help with that?" To which Lottie nodded and stuck out her arm towards Laura, who took the beret and adjusted it accordingly atop Lottie's head. Laura played with the little girl's hair a bit, noticing how soft and angel-like it was.

Once Lottie was situated, Laura spoke again. "Would you like to walk together? I make a great buddy!"

Lottie nodded solemnly, reaching out to immediately grip Laura's small hand with her even tinier one. Laura filed them both into the line as they waited. Suddenly, Lottie was out of her grip, running off to the front of the line to meet with a five-year-old whom Laura knew as Maybell. The honey-brunette huffed, smiling. "Well sheesh, go right ahead."

"Sorry, I told her that Mabel had some candy to share. I hope you don't mind?"

Laura jumped, only now just noticing the tall redheaded girl whom she'd seen at breakfast the other day. The girl was smiling down at her, her hand held out in a friendly manner.

Laura took it cautiously. "Oh, that's alright. She'd ought to make friends her own age." Laura observed the rather tall teenager as the two lines began to make their way. She'd remembered her name: Danielle Lawrence, who was in charge of making sure the younger children got their share of exercise.

Her grip was strong against Laura's, and Laura found herself struggling to make conversation.

" I'm quite new here, so I really don't know much about this place…"

Danielle nodded. "I know! You're Laura, aren't you?"

Laura gave an affirmative smile.

Danille's return was almost blinding. "I'm Danny. Well, my given name is Danielle, but that seems a bit too posh for my liking."

"Danny…" Laura repeated, wrinkling her nose. The name was a bit boyish, but charming nonetheless. They were out of the heavy black gates now. Laura found it strange that she hadn't even taken the time to notice who was leading them; she'd then noticed the looming presence of Miss Morgan. who was walking as gracefully as a swimming swan. If that swan was a dark and scary sort of bird… But what caught Laura's eye was the small timid presence that walked right beside the Dean; the tiny back side of Mircalla. Her dress was as neat as ever, and she had replaced her usual olive satin bow for a silky black one. Laura cocked her head. Was that allowed? Perhaps it was a special occasion only for the church visit. Mircalla's stature was but a mere toddler's size when compared with Miss Morgan's model-like height. Laura also noticed that while other students were speaking animatedly to their partners, (even Susan and Lola, who were laughing about something Lola's mother had said) the Dean did not care to even spare a glance at Mircalla. Why then, would Mircalla choose to walk with Miss Morgan?

The small honey brunette couldn't understand it. She turned to her left to find Danny staring at her questioningly.

"Well?"

Laura felt her face redden. She wasn't paying attention to what was asked of her.

Danny laughed at Laura's expression. "That's alright, you don't have to tell me right now."

Laura held in a sigh of relief, internally scolding herself for wondering about things that she had no control over. It was a childish thing to do, really…

Laura turned slightly behind her, where she could see the distant town just west of their school fading with each step. To the east, a white building emerged. An enormous house of worship.

Stained glass windows adorned either side of the church, both in long pairs. Statues of saints and angels aligned themselves on their side. At one time, it would have been prominent that the temple had been white, but had been layered and peeled so many times that it was now an eggshell brown with occasional strips of white paint. It was hastily uninviting, but at the same time, held an aura of easiness.

The Priest was calm, yet his voice boomed from his rather large stature.

It reminded Laura nothing of her father, though. This man was wrinkled and had a permanent scowl hastily sewn onto his features, as if he'd spent most of his life in great judgment. Laura tried not to catch his eye. Beside her, she found Perry listening avidly, while Susan had apparently fallen asleep on her shoulder and was snoring quietly. Laura rubbed at her eyes tiredly before leaning back to stare at the beautifully painted ceiling panels that were high above any one person's reach. The colors made her slightly dizzy.

Mass went by slowly. Laura tried not to fidget too much, but even as some of the younger children tried to entertain themselves. Until finally, the sermon was completed, and the churchgoers were dismissed.

Even the air felt lighter now that the children had been given free reign. Brunch had been laid out in a pot-luck arrangement, where they were given their choice in both healthy and sweetened foods; most of the children helped themselves to the latter.

The younger ones skipped about while the elders chatted animatedly. Laura pulled at the grass where herself and a few other children had placed themselves.

"What position in the army is your father, Laura?" Perry asked, and Laura's answering smile couldn't've been brighter. She'd just begun to settle into the loss of absence of her father, and while her heart ached for him, she always felt as though she needed to learn a little independence. One is never too young to grow up…right?

Laura's babbling about her father and his stories lead to Susan and Lola giving their own chatter about their family lives. Lola spoke very highly of her father's position as a nurse for the war effort, as well as her mother's job as a housemaid for their boarding school. Susan was a bit quieter about the subject, but spoke of her parents fondly.

While the two were exchanging old memories (something about cookies, maybe) Laura scanned the dull green church lawn that surrounded them. She'd noticed that Miss Morgan and Mrs. Perry had taken to sitting stiffly on silver chairs that were tucked neatly into the serving table. Mrs. Perry was explaining something, her hands flailing sweetly, while the Dean nodded in all the right places, the veil of darkness never leaving her slit eyes. Laura wasn't too surprised to see Mircalla sitting neatly on the other side of the table, unmoving, eyes trained forward.

Laura's tongue peeked out from her mouth in thought. Although Mircalla had been quite rude to her, lied to her, and practically dismissed her altogether, Laura found herself unable to stay too upset. After all, everyone deserved a second chance. Or a third.

The honey brunette hopped up, not bothering to check for unsightly grass stains as she dusted her hands. She snuck over towards the table, out of vision range from both the Dean and Mrs. Perry as she ducked quickly under the tablecloth, but not before snagging a delicious-looking honey custard biscuit from a silver tray atop the table. She crawled on her knees, simultaneously trying not to bump her head or drop the treat she intended to deliver. On the far side of the table, she'd reached her target. Ankle-tucked, black-tight covered legs, with polished Mary-Janes that were far more expensive looking than Laura's own pair.

Laura poked Mircalla's knee.

She received a sudden kick to the stomach in response.

"Oof!" Laura fell back on her bottom, still managing to keep the pastry off of the ground. Suddenly, a pair of dark chocolate eyes met her own as Mircalla tilted her head under the tablecloth.

Mircalla's glare couldn't have been more disgusted. She popped back up in an instant, and Laura followed, albeit a bit more carefully.

Deciding that the sudden blow had been a reflex, Laura didn't take it to heart and she stood next to the still-seated Mircalla, holding the golden pastry behind her back. "Hello!" The honey blonde chirped, giving a small wave with her free hand.

The dark brunette's response was nothing more than a bored blink, of even that. Laura questioned whether the gesture was even an acknowledgement in the first place...She tried again. The small biscuit was beginning to crumble behind her back, so she brought it forward as an offering. "I've brought you a custard biscuit. Although I don't know if you'd like it; if you wanted something from the table I suppose you could have just grabbed it yourself, but maybe you'd like to join us! Well, by us, I mean Susan, Lola, and I, they may seem a little strange but they're both so kind" Laura's conscience told her that she was rambling, but she couldn't stop now. She had to talk to this girl. "It's really very good-here!" Laura stepped forward to further her offering, and ended up dropping a few fluffy crumbs on the dark satin skirt of the girl's dress.

Laura, not knowing otherwise, giggled nervously. "Oh, I'm very sorry, here-" She reached forward with her tiny, gentle hand to brush the contrasting crumbs off the other girl's lap, but Mircalla stiffened like a board before contact could be made. Then she stood up like a bullet, and her book slid onto the grass, folding open the pages in odd ways against the murky lawn. The girl's devastating glare made Laura's throat go dry. And before little Laura could even utter another apology, (hopefully one she would have been allowed to finish) Mircalla had snatched up her Bible and strode away.

Laura hadn't even noticed when she'd dropped the biscuit to the ground.

* * *

Why had she reacted so? They were simple crumbs; they couldn't have absolutely ruined her expensive dress, could they have? Laura's feet were kicking lightly as she pondered on the edge of her soft bed. She had pulled her long honey-brown locks up into a high ponytail, the ends of which were curling this way and that. She'd also taken the liberty of removing her original uniform and changing into a more comfortable set of ladies' trousers and a pastel green poofing blouse that was a tad too big for her small frame.

Laura heard very loud honking coming from outside of her window. Though the nearest cross street was very far away from the school, she could still make out the Palliser Ambulance that was making its way past. She thought it a bit strange. Until she'd gone outside of her own room and hopped onto the sangria carpet, she'd not registered the grunts of frustration that were coming from another room somewhere near her own. Laura's brows creased together as she stared into a nearby opened door, where she found a small, bright blonde head of hair flouncing as Lottie tried to grab at something on a high dresser. Laura smiled and skipped over. "Hello, Lottie!"

Lottie turned with sad eyes at Laura. "Hello, Ms Lauwa."

Laura giggled at the formal name and bent down a few inches to Lottie's own height. "What's the matter? Why were you hopping?"

Lottie pointed to the top of the dresser. "Miss Perry put toy uh' there. Can' reach." Lottie's voice wavered a tad, and it made Laura's heart clench. The honey blonde nodded determinedly. "I'll get it!"

Though try as she might, Laura's own height didn't distinguish too harshly from Lottie's own. So she too failed to retrieve the toy. She huffed, but not dejectedly. She turned her back to Lottie, and crouched down. "Hop on, Lottie; I'll lift ya to it!"

The tiny blonde did so, and just barely managed to grab onto the porcelain object that had been out of Laura's line of vision.

Lottie scrambled off of Laura once she'd gotten her toy, and hugged it tightly to her with one hand, as the other thumb was now stuck in her mouth.

Laura noticed the beautiful doll right away. Its hair was thick and neatly curled, its skin perfectly blushed with black eyes that seemed as deep as an ocean. What was curious, though, was that it seemed that the porcelain doll had been given tailor-made clothing made to resemble the boarding school's uniform. Laura found this very curious. "Lottie?"

The tiny blonde was busy rocking the rather large doll in her arms, so she hadn't answered. Laura continued. "Where did you get that doll?"

Lottie's bright grey eyes shifted to stare into Laura's own honey-brown irises. Lottie still hadn't said anything.

"Did you mummy or daddy get it for you?"

Lottie's head shook. "Don' have t'em."

Laura's brow creased. It wasn't likely that she'd get the answers she searched for. At least, not from Lottie's own mouth. Laura made a mental note to ask Mrs. Perry about it sometime later on. So she smiled at Lottie and patted her soft hair. "Alright. Well, us older people have very important things to do. I'll go now."

"Miss Lauwa." Lottie called before the honey blonde was out of the doorway.

"Yes, Lottie?"

The four-year-old reluctantly held the porcelain doll away from her body, outstretched towards Laura to prove her point. Lottie spoke again, with great seriousness in her soft voice. "Dolly makes Carmilla sad."

Laura's brows shot up. There it was again. She knew that Lottie had been referring to Mircalla, but what use did Mircalla have with lying to Lottie about her name? And how could an expensive, well-dressed doll, make Mircalla waiver in emotion, when Laura couldn't even get a smile out of the girl? It was all very strange, but Laura hesitantly put it to the back of her mind, dismissing Lottie's words. "I see. It's probably best that she'd not see it then, right?"

Lottie nodded hesitantly. "Carmilla mustn't."

Laura gave a small smile and backed out of the room, leaving Lottie to stare into the eyes of the doll.

* * *

Their ballroom, although quite small, was largely beautiful. Its ceilings were golden and the polished redwood floor made Laura extra careful to avoid slipping. The room was brightly lit and held a strange old lavender scent. Susan had told Laura that they had been assigned dance partners since the age of seven, and most of it was just good fun and exercise. But now at a slightly older age, they were required to actually learn a few of the more advanced dance styles. This, Laura was most concerned about. She was only slightly clumsy, but having to coordinate with another person was an entirely new concept. She found it rather exciting as well. As it was, Laura hadn't been assigned a partner yet.

"Miss Hollis darling, you'll be filling in for anyone without a partner, as of now. We'll situate you with a partner once you become more familiar with the group." Their teacher had said to her.

Laura was thankful for this at least. But at least for the next few weeks, it wouldn't be entirely necessary.

They'd begun with a simple box step. Well, it was supposed to be simple. Perry had taken to the sequence gracefully, while Susan settled for jumping from square to square, switching between both feet.

Laura was doing her best not to trip over herself. 'Right back, then left...then back, wait, left back? Left left? Right front- no…' Laura huffed with a small smile. She was hopeless. Suddenly, small stocky hands had grabbed her own; Susan spun Laura around, giggling, and Lola smiled at the two.

The class went on rather smoothly. Their interpretive dance moves, however...

Laura's bedroom was cascaded in the bloody red sunlight that poured in through the large window. The small child was at the window seat. Laura found herself staring out of her room window once again, tending to the small tear on one of her uniforms. She'd known that while Lola would have done a very good job with the sewing job, Laura preferred to try it herself. Getting the thin thread through the even tinier eye of the needle had been a bit of a challenge, but Laura found that keeping track of the needle had been the hardest part with such dark carpeting. She pinched the thin strip of metal and poked it through the olive fabric and out to the other side. Just before she'd pricked her other hand.

"Owwie!" She dropped the sharp tool haphazardly, and stuck her pointer finger straight into her pouting mouth. The drop of blood that had oozed out tasted like orangey copper. Yeck! She couldn't imagine having to taste the stuff on purpose, like, some sort of...blood drinking creature she'd read about!

She pushed her hair behind her ear before rubbing at her eyes. It was almost late noon, as the bedroom was cast in a hazy pink glow from the light of the open window. Her sweet chocolate eyes scanned the distant town just outside of the black fence. If she tried hard enough, she could even make out the church, which was a stark contrast to the grey gothic buildings. But something caught Laura's eye. A small dot of a figure, letting itself through the front gates, and walking slowly towards the front of the school.

Laura pressed her hands against the window, her breath held so it didn't fog, and peered down at the small, well-dressed figure. Mircalla! The dark brunette strolling her way towards the mansion had not even bothered to look up from her hardback novel. Laura felt an irritated frown form on her own face. Mostly, she was curious. How was Mircalla allowed to leave the school whenever she saw fit? It clearly wasn't secretive; Mircalla was strutting in like she owned the property! A small part of Laura felt an unfamiliar tug of concern. Laura always saw the best in people, but their city was highly populated, and anyone could have snatched Mircalla away if she was unattended. Even Laura knew that a child wandering on her own in a large city of was not safe in the slightest.

Mircalla disappeared into the front school doors.

* * *

Perhaps one of the best parts of attending a high-end boarding school (in Laura's opinion, of course) were the meals. Assortments of every kind were brought by the dark-skinned workers, including the young lady. And although the young child had attended the school for a few short days, Laura had taken a liking to being served by others. It was a dangerous attraction, Laura knew. Being dependent on others was a tricky business. But even so, dependency was a necessary skill.

"Okay, children. To the tea room; post haste!" Mrs. Perry said after their meals had been finished and the plates were on their way to be washed. With small grumbles and huffs, they rose in an orderly fashion and shuffled out of the dining hall.

The black mantled fireplace was sufficient in warming the entirety of the tea room. The children were seated in gathered wooden chairs, all placed neatly in a rather large circle formation.

No child was exempt from reading night every Sunday, even as the youngest of individuals tended to become restless and bored with the dry literature. The small novel was passed to those who could read it, and continued around the circle as such. While Mrs. Perry played a gentle tune on a Pedal harp just outside of the circle of children, Miss Morgan observed the children from a high-backed chair that sat away from the fireplace.

"And so the young lady slept, many thoughts plaguing her, as her father's words echoed in her subconscious. She would have to put her childish things away very soon; it was entirely necessary for a good marriage..."

Most had fallen asleep in their chairs during the recited paragraphs of the first few readers; some others tried desperately to stay awake with the fear that they would sleep through their required readings. Laura waited patiently for her own turn, swinging her legs, and entertaining herself by sneaking silly faces at Susan, who sat on the opposite side of the circle. Perry's scolding gaze only stopped her occasionally. The only child who seemed to be listening attentively to whatever was being read, Laura noticed, was Mircalla, who sat as straight as a rod with dark eyes trained forward. Laura noticed this and subconsciously corrected her own posture. Laura had already taken her turn, and despite her speed-reading and occasional stumble, Laura was quite proud of managing to get through her section. She supposed that it would get easier with practice.

It circled around towards the halfway mark with 12 students already having read from the achingly boring novel.

Susan giggled at a few of the outdated terms as she read, and was given a terrifying scowl from the Dean. Susan was more than happy to pass the book on.

SarahJane was next, then Danny. Skipping over Lottie, the book was given to a pretty girl with slanted eyes and long dark hair.

'A European heiress!' Laura had imagined hopefully, after she learned the girl's name: Brittany. A chipper blonde was next, followed by Perry, and finally, the book was given to Mircalla.

Beside her, Laura heard a small huff of annoyance from another student. "Here we go again…"

Laura frowned and stared expectantly at Mircalla. Surely the dark brunette would stand with impeccable grace, lift her chin to the novel, and read aloud flawlessly with the voice of a princess to match.

Laura couldn't have been more off.

Instead of Laura's grand fantasy, Mircalla remained seated, the book laid open helplessly in her lap. Mircalla's head was down, her dark curls cascading over her shoulder and shaded her face.

She didn't utter a sound.

Laura's eyes went wide, and the honey brunette noticed that the Dean's dark eyes were trained on Mircalla with a look of barely disguised disgust.

A few seconds went by-it felt like days.

The mousy-haired 13-year-old to the left of Mircalla gave the mute brunette an apologetic look before gently taking the book into her own lap and continued from where Perry had left off.

"And so Charlotte rose from her chambers, taking care in brushing her long platinum hair many times…"

Laura continued staring at the silent girl.

Her fists were clenched on the tops of her thighs, where the book had just been, and had not yet dared to raise her eyes any further than the carpet line.

The book finished its circle, and the pupils headed to bed.

* * *

Laura's bedroom felt emptier empty every night. She grew restless, turning over more times than she could count. Laura decided that a glass of water was in order. And maybe a cookie or two. Yep, defiantly in order. A long, thin candle was her only source of lighting.

The mansion was especially interesting at night. Laura found it curious that she could still hear Mrs. Perry gently pulling at the strings of her harp, only just masking the harsh voices that emanated from the same floor.

The honey brunette's little hand fisted in the fabric of her nightgown, hesitant. The last time she'd ventured out late at night, she was met with the scalding, hellish eyes of the Dean.

Unfortunately for Laura, she heard that very voice again.

" _Insufferable /child/…no better than a lobotomized vegetable!"_

Laura winced. The Dean was surely speaking to a student again.

" _Useless...can't even /read/...turning into a clammy rodent!"_

Laura's eyes widened. Was the Dean speaking to Mircalla?

The heavy brass doors to the Dean's office were shut, the sounds just managing to seep through. The voice continued, muttering even harsher strings of words that made Laura want to cover her own ears. She couldn't even imagine what Mircalla must have been thinking. Laura suddenly felt a burst of anger. No one deserved to be spoken to in such an awful way. Not even a girl who had been rude to her since they'd met!

But… there wasn't anything she could do.

Was there?

With a determined pout and narrowed eyes, Laura rushed forward without a second thought. Her tiny fist slammed against the solid doors, but it hardly made a sound.

The voices had stopped.

Laura ceased her angry knocking.

Suddenly, she was panicking.

What had she done?! As much as she would have liked to help Mircalla, Laura wasn't sure if dying would be the most helpful thing at the moment…

Laura's heart was threatening to burst out of her ribs. And then, the doors swung open, nearly hitting Laura as she fell back and landed on her bottom.

In the doorway, with a very angry-looking Mircalla directly behind her, was Miss Morgan, staring down at Laura, the woman's pitch-black eyes caught on the candle Laura had been holding and flashed a dangerous yellow.

Laura dropped the candle onto the hardwood, where it fell with an empty thud and went out.


End file.
